It's only the hand on his chest that keeps him from going for his knives, and for a second he frowns down at it, and then up at the man in front of him with his back totally exposed-- covering for him, and some long-buried human instinct prompts him to step in closer to Rogers, to take himself out of the line of sight and allow his... partner to distract the target.

The red leeches from the edges of his vision slowly. He forces himself to breath out, counting, and for whatever reason doesn't push on ahead alone but waits for Rogers to give him some cue, let him know that it's alright to proceed.